Song Inspiration Series
by thegirlwithtwofaces
Summary: A series of short stories, each inspired by a different, random song. A different pairing each story, so there's something for everyone hopefully! Will be updated once a week. Neville/Hannah, Remus/Sirius, Harry/Ginny, etc.
1. Fancy Footwork: Chromeo

FANCY FOOTWORK

"But if you let her see that fancy footwork,

Show her that you're not that shy…

Let her see that fancy footwork.

Show her you're that type of guy."

Neville strode across the cobblestones, his stride quickening as he saw his destination in plain sight. A neon sign blared over a dark doorway, and he could see the flashing lights in the club from his spot on the curb of the Muggle road. He paused, warily peering through the darkness before making up his mind.

The room was packed with people, there was no denying that. Directly across from him stood a bar, and beside that were speakers the size of golf carts blaring techno music. Neville gulped. This was not what he had in mind when his old classmates had invited him over to dance. It had been three, nearly four years since the last time he had seen most of the friends he had made at Hogwarts, and he felt foreign in the busy club. He had always been awkward, he knew. But in his last year at Hogwarts, he had had to step up and take charge without Harry being there to lead the rebellion. He had come out of his shell. But now, facing the ear drum shattering music and pulsing fluorescent lights, he felt like the little eleven year old with too-big ears and who lost his toad on the train. His eyes raked over the swarming room, looking for any sign of anyone he knew. All the members of Dumbledore's Army were coming, that he knew. He turned back towards the door, looking wistfully at the absolute calm and coolness of the London alleyway. A mess of long blonde hair obscured his vision, and he frowned down at the woman hugging his middle before beaming and returning the gesture.

"Luna!" He examined her wide blue eyes, "You haven't changed a bit!"

"Well, I should hope so. " She said thoughtfully, "And I'm glad to see you're looking better. I haven't seen you since the... well, you know." Neville nodded shortly.

"Ah, yeah. I was a right mess. I can't even imagine being that bruised ever again." Neville shrugged. "Hey, who's this?" He smiled down at Luna, surprised to see a broad shouldered man standing beside her.

"Oh, yes, this is Rolf." Luna smiled dreamily and pecked him on the cheek. "My boyfriend. Rolf, this is Neville, I've told you about him, haven't I?"

"That you have." Rolf's tanned face split into a grin, "A pleasure to finally meet you. The infamous Neville Longbottom!" Neville shot a questioning look at Luna.

"I told him all about Dumbledore's Army." Luna took Rolf's hand, and they walked towards the bar. "…and about you and that snake."

"Luna, have you been bragging?" He gave a cheeky grin as they sat down on bar stools.

"Well of course I have. I'm allowed to brag about my friend if they've helped to conquer the darkest wizard of all time, can't I?" Luna grinned as Neville blushed under the light that was now sweeping the room in a bright pink glow.

"Oh, now look. You've made me blush." Neville had to shout as a new song had come on, and Luna swayed slightly to the beat.

"You want to go dance, babe?" Rolf asked with a grin

"Yes, if you don't mind, Neville?" Luna cast a worried look at him as she stood up.

"Nah, don't worry about me. Now go! Dance!" Neville waved them off, and Rolf gave him a thumbs up as he walked side by side with Luna until they were engulfed by the crazily dancing mob in the center of the room, and he watched them sway serenely in the chaos of the dancers. Neville smiled and spun around and waited for the bartender. Luna and Rolf were perfect for each other.

"One rum, two fingers, no ice." The burly bartender nodded once and turned around to rummage about in the liquor cabinet. "Thank you." Neville gave the man his money and stirred the drink slowly, looking out into the room as he took a swig. His eyebrows shot up as he saw a head of wildly curly, blonde hair in the middle of the dance floor. It couldn't be. "I'll be right back." Neville slid out of his seat, confidence seeping through him with every step he took towards the center of the mob. He felt the music pound against him, and his pulse started to race as he took in the sight of her dancing by herself. It was Hannah. Hannah Abbot. He was drowning in the pounding bass, it was hammering against his chest and it felt so _good._ And then he was there, he was by her side, and he was moving like he had been dying to since he first caught sight of her. He was ready to show her that he wasn't shy, clumsy little Neville Longbottom anymore.

"Hannah." Neville gave a beaming grin as Hannah's jaw dropped.

"Neville?" Hannah didn't stop moving with him to the sound of the electronic music that was shaking the walls. "I've missed you!" She shouted over the music, and Neville's grin returned as they both moved to the rhythm.

"We can talk in a bit. Let's dance." Neville gave a lopsided grin as Hannah's lips turned up in amusement.

The crowd was pushing against them, but Neville couldn't care less at the moment. All he cared about was the way Hannah's hips felt moving under his hands and how her hair smelt exactly the same as he remembered it. It felt so completely right, and he was going to prove to her what she had been missing.

Neville had always loved to dance, especially since the Yule Ball. He would never forget how happy he had been, how reluctant he had been to leave the dance floor and Ginny to go to sleep. But he had never in his life felt like this. His head was clear, he felt absolutely free and delirious and _alive_. With Hannah, this felt like it was meant to be. He couldn't get over how absolutely gorgeous she was, how perfect she looked in her bright red dress. She was so utterly beautiful; he couldn't bear not to tell her somehow. And so he danced. Hannah grinned as he smiled down at her, and he somehow knew that he could do no wrong. He had found the cure for his lonely heart, and he wasn't intending on letting it go anytime soon.


	2. Canvas: Imogen Heap

CANVAS

"Hijacked, lost track, light fades another day left

Long shadows lure you in

The more you look the less you see

So close your eyes and start to breathe

Oh, you said yourself this wasn't easy

Oh, you said yourself this wasn't easy."

Remus stared up at the glowing moon. How many poems, how many sonnets had he read about the moon? And yet, all he could think of as he sat on the lonely grass covered hill, and he stared up at that glowing orb that hung in the sky was how scared he was of it. Even as he sat in the knee length grass that swayed in the gentle nighttime breeze and the glassy, black surface of the lake was as calm as ever, he only felt fear. Remus tried to stand up, tried to move any muscle, any muscle at all, but he felt like he had no strength in him left to go on. One more day. One more day, and barely a stone's throw beyond this very hill, he'd be a beast; a werewolf, howling and shrieking and ripping at his own flesh with his jagged claws. And there wasn't a thing he could do about it. One more day, and he'd be a monster. Again. And it would never stop.

Remus exhaled slowly and his hot breath rose in spirals of steam toward the wretched moon and the star strewn sky. One day. He collapsed and rested his head on the knoll as the long reed-like grass continued to blow around him. One day. He closed his eyes gradually and tried, tried,_ tried _to forget about time and the moon and monsters, and that one other issue that was gnawing at the back of his skull. But he could never think about that again; he'd promised himself. He'd just plaster a smile on his face; pretend that his insides weren't rotting away and there wasn't a voice inside his head screaming every time he thought of that damned Sirius Black. That his brain wasn't melting with sheer frustration when he thought of him. Oh Merlin, _him_. He wouldn't think of the beaming smile that he wore whenever they were up to no good (as they often were, you know), he couldn't think about how his friendly hugs sent his eyes nearly rolling back into their sockets and his legs filled with jelly (raspberry jelly, specifically, as it was Sirius's favorite. And yes, he did in fact pay attention to all these things.) And he absolutely would not think about last night, when Sirius was sleeping soundly in his down filled bed in the dorms, with only boxers on and his covers thrown off and _ohh Merlin_. What he wouldn't give to be able to just climb in under those scarlet blankets with him, and cuddle him like they used to around the full moon.

But no, Sirius' feelings were entirely platonic. So Remus stared unblinkingly at the glowering moon, letting his muscles relax one by one and wishing for the earth to swallow him as he prayed for this feeling of loneliness to be banished. Because he just couldn't find the strength.


	3. Summertime Clothes: Animal Collective

SUMMERTIME CLOTHES

"My bones have to move and my skin's gotta breathe  
You pick up the phone and I'm so relieved  
You slide down your stairs to the heated street  
And the sun has left us with slippery feet  
And I want to walk around with you..."

"Ginny. Ginny. Ginny." Harry whispered into the crack of her bedroom door, his neck bent at an extremely awkward angle as he tried in vain to peer inside.

"Harry?" Ginny mumbled, and Harry heard the creak of bedsprings. A louder squeak ensued, followed by the shuffling of feet on floorboards. Harry nearly toppled over as Ginny wrenched the door open, and he grinned despite himself at her rumpled appearance. "Harry, what are you doing? It's-" she glanced at a small metal wall clock before turning to face him, "-it's two in the morning!"

Harry felt a dull blush creep up his neck, creeping slowly to his hot cheeks. "Sorry, I just- couldn't sleep."

Ginny's brown eyes softened. "Nightmare?" she whispered, and Harry bent his head, nodding slightly despite himself as she looked up at him. He didn't want to look in her eyes- to see the worry and pity. Especially the pity. There were so many more deserving people for her to sympathize with. He felt her running her thumb over his chin. He started, embarrassed of the slight stubble that marked his face, but she placed her hand onto his shoulder. "I'll meet you downstairs in five minutes." She grinned as he furrowed his brows. "To walk around! Take your mind off of things."

"Ginny… it's raining." Ginny wrenched open her white curtains covering her window to inspect the scene of the orchard slowly being covered in a fine mist.

"Poppycock." Harry raised a brow. "It's barely even started to sprinkle. Now get out so I can brush my teeth." Harry exited gladly and ambled down the crooked stairs of the Burrow, waiting near the base of the stairs where a plush, velvet armchair served as his perch. Not even five minutes later, he looked up to see Ginny sliding down the handrail of the stairs before landing with a dull thud near where he sat. He jumped up immediately, face splitting into a wild grin as she took his hand and led him outside. The stuffy confines of the Burrow gave way to clean air, crisp and cool with the scent of rain lingering on the blades of grass and leaves of the yard. His ensemble of only pajama bottoms, white socks and a T-shirt quickly stuck to his skin in the damp garden, and he glanced to his side to see if what Ginny was wearing was any better. She too was in pajama bottoms, short for the hot summer weather, and a T-shirt with a cover up thrown hastily over. He smiled at her usual Weasley-red hair, the braid it was in messy from sleeping on it. She caught his gaze and raised a brow. He smirked, grabbing her hand this time and leading her out toward the open air, stumbling on clods of dirt and roots that rose randomly from the dampening earth. Harry let out a snort as Ginny bolted in front of him, running out of the far gate that welcomed people to the Burrow. She turned to face him as she reached the mud-slicked dirt road. He glanced at his once pure white socks, hesitating as Ginny gave a sniff.

"Afraid of ruining your precious socks, Saint Potter?" Harry scowled at Malfoy's old name for him, and Ginny grinned roguishly.

"_No_." He carefully peeled off the white cotton from his feet, reveling in the way the mud squished between his toes. Ginny quickly took his hand, for the third time that night as he was pleased to say, and they walked together through the mud. Harry lips twisted into a wry grin as Ginny began humming, skipping down the lane with her hand still held in his. Her airy tune filled the otherwise empty air, and he compared her arm with his. Her pale fingers were entwined with his own slightly tanned ones, and he admired the freckles that spotted her entire forearm. Harry shoved the idea of counting them all to the back of his mind and instead his eyes traveled up her neck to her face. Her warm brown eyes shone, her lips were turned up, and her cheeks were faintly pink. Harry, remembering himself, kicked the slippery mud onto her bare feet as he took an extra long stride. Ginny turned to him, excruciatingly slow. Her eyes shone with a light, and Harry recognized the devious way her eyes glinted in the moonlight. They perfectly mirrored her own twin brothers, Fred-

Harry felt a pang enter his chest like a searing knife. It was no longer Fred and George. It was just George now. He gazed down, marveling in the way her tiny figure radiated such confidence. He was sure that it was from years of being raised around teenage boys, but maybe, maybe it was because she was truly happy and comfortable. That's the reason he came out here with her, right? To forget about the war. To forget about all the death, the despair, the destruction. And here he was, with the girl he had dreamt about for the past three years, and all he could do was think back to a year ago. The anniversary was looming ahead, and it was sure to reopen freshly healed wounds. Harry shook his head as they arrived to the end of the lane.

"Why so quiet, Harry?" she stood on tiptoe to whisper, and a waft of something he had smelled down in Slughorn's dungeon floated toward him, making his eyelids close as he smiled in contentment. "Harry?"

Harry opened his eyes in a dreamy state. He led her toward a patch of dry grass that grew underneath a rather large willow tree, and to his pleasure, she didn't let go of his hand even as they sat down and leaned against the rough bark. "You smell really, really nice." He finally managed to utter. She snorted but leaned her head against his shoulder.

"The scent of my shampoo has left you speechless this entire time?" she teased, and laughed merrily as he nodded bemusedly.

"It does become quite a bit… distracting." He sighed and sniffed her hair again hesitantly. "Sorry, it just smells…"

"Like what?" Ginny asked with a grin.

"Like… something floral. But it's not just that, it's fruit and flowers and something else, too. I smelled it in Slughorn's class, you know." Harry laughed as Ginny wrinkled her nose. "No, no, nothing like that! It smelled delicious, but nowhere near as good as the real thing. I smelled it in the- in the amortentia potion, as it is. And I knew it came from the Burrow at first, but then I smelled it again, when you hugged me after you won the Quidditch match, and after Dumbledore died. And that's- that's when I knew, I suppose." Harry coughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Knew what?" Ginny whispered.

"I knew that… oh I don't know. I knew that being jealous of Dean wasn't me being protective of you. Well it was, just not in the same way as Ron, not brotherly. And I, um, realized that I didn't think of you as just Ron's sister anymore." Harry nervously rambled, " And I knew, I knew that I didn't want to see you with anyone else. And I knew that if it was possible, if you wanted to, that I wanted to be with you, and not anyone else. I knew that I… well, I think that I-"

A small freckled hand covered his mouth, and Harry's eyes widened behind his glasses. "You talk too much, Harry Potter." Ginny whispered. She slowly released her hand from his trembling lips, and Harry felt his eyelids slowly close, and his neck tilted back, and they kissed under the willow tree for what might have been until morning. He had missed the feel of her lips, and the touch of her hair, and just _her. _She was everything he wasn't, everything he needed. They stopped in good time, and Harry felt Ginny rest her head against his chest.

"I never gave up on you, Harry. Not for a minute." Harry's cheeks started to quiver from the enormous smile that was etched onto his face, but he couldn't stop grinning. "It was always you." Harry looked into her eyes and brushed the stray hair out of her face, kissing her gently on the forehead before wrapping an arm around her. He might not be the most perfect person, but as he fell asleep with Ginny under the cover of the swaying willow tree, he felt safe and whole.

All was well.

Sorry for the delay for those of you who have been reading!

I've been grounded, but thankfully I've been working on a couple more stories, so they'll be up as soon as possible.

Thank you so much for reviews and alerts, they mean the world to me!


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